Skin Signs Tell All
by Roxu
Summary: Number #1 Rule of Being a Paramedic: Skin Signs Tell All. What if Rick Grimes had a younger sister? What if she stayed with him in the hospital? What would it be like for The Walking Dead story? Perhaps Eventual Daryl/OC - still debating.


**BY: ROXU**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Walking Dead.**

** ~ Enjoy, Readers**

* * *

**_Sick People Don't Whine_**** –**_ Prologue;_ Loss

* * *

Her breathing was labored deeply, her head dizzy from the sharp turns and fast stimulation of the racing Ambulance. Robin braced her hand against the padding of the ambulance walls, closing her eyes to control her chaotic emotions . . .

. . . _"Rick! Rick, that's not fair!" Despite the accusing tone, I found myself laughing giddily as my brother circled around to the other side of the pool, away from Shane who had a soaking wet bandanna around his head, obscuring his vision. _

_ Said sixteen year-old jerked around toward me at the sound of my voice, a shark-like grin spreading across his features. "Come now, little Robin. Come on, now." He was gradually approaching my position, which was behind the stepladder of the pool. _

_ I frantically gave Rick a pleading look, begging him to let me hide with him, which was balancing his feet on the metal edge of the pool. A silent argument was waged until Rick saw Shane merely three feet away from my location. I was slowly sinking into the water, careful to lower my breathing where he could not perceive it. My older brother finally relented and jerked his head at me, a wordless indication to get my ass in gear. _

_ I, oh-so gingerly, maneuvered myself out from beyond the guardrail, away from my only source of protection from Shane. I knew I couldn't just dive into the water and hope to bypass my brother's best friend, I wasn't stupid – Shane had unbelievably fast reflexes, he would catch me in a jiffy. So I stayed glued to the boundary of the swimming pool, ducking my head low. _

_ I felt myself grinning wildly when I circled my way around Shane, his obliviousness present as he searched the stepladder for my attendance. I swiveled in the water and gave Rick an inaudible chuckle. He sent me an expression as I made my way to him, causing me to mouth, "Cheater," like the little deceiver he was. _

_ And then abruptly, Rick's foot slipped._

_ My mouth opened in horror as he crashed atop the surface of the water, landing on me in the process. Me, the measly thirteen year-old, gasped as water flooded my mouth and I hastily shoved Rick off me, sputtering out a mouthful as I did so. I gave him my most ferocious glare as he straightened, but his attention was above my head – and I turned to see where he was looking at mostly because he seemed as if he was fixing to bust into roaring guffaws. _

_ I screamed in shock as arms picked me up and I was thrown across the pool, landing near the front side with a face-full of water and an inflatable tire-ring somehow wrapped around me. I was angry at my demise of Marco-Polo, but at the sight of Rick and Shane into near tears of laughter, I found myself giggling as well . . ._

Robin flinched when she felt a hand press against her shoulder, squeezing in a comforting manner. "You don't haft to –"

"Wheeler, please – don't tell me I don't haft to go out there. He's my _brother_."

Wheeler grimaced at my bitter response, sitting back beside me with a dejected frown. "Sorry," he grumbled. He smiled weakly, "I'm sure he will be jus' fine."

"Yeah – Yeah, r-right."

Robin felt her breath leave her lungs when the Ambulance suddenly halted on Interstate Eighteen, but that did not stop her from slamming opening the double-doors, her feet smacking against asphalt as she rushed past the barricade of cop cars. "Move!" She shouted to the policemen, her tone frantic as she took the man's position from at her brother's head.

Shane was blabbering, his eyes glazed, consistently shushing and begging Rick to stay conscious. Robin shifted Rick's head to the side for certain of his airways being clear, or at least so that he could breathe better. She didn't realize tears were gliding down her cheeks until Wheeler pressed gauzes into Rick's underarm, rapidly instructing her to hold his left arm up so they could temporarily stabilize the injury until they could get him to the Intensive Care Unit at the hospital.

Robin mentally pulled herself together, forcing her mind to focus on her job as a paramedic. She and the others assisted in placing Rick on the stretcher, hurriedly rushing him into the Ambulance. She turned on the mechanical ventilator and quickly placed the mask over Rick's mouth, gently smoothing back his hair. "Oh, Rick," she gasped on a sob as Wheeler swiveled around her to Rick's head, checking his pulse and vitals.

She swallowed bile in her throat as she snapped her gaze to Shane, who climbed in beside her, a haunting expression on his face. "Shane – Shane, h-how did this happen?"

He just steadily shook his head, lips pinched into a tight line.

No words were spoken besides the sounds of Robin sobbing into her blood-stained gloves, afraid for her brother's life.

* * *

"No, Isaac, I'm fine." Robin pulled her knees to her chest, phone propped up in one hand, her other gripping her brother's limp fingers as he slumbered on the medical surgical bed.

"Izzy's at school, darlin', I can easily come over and get you. I should have gotten newer brake pads on that ole Honda earlier." His voice showed exertion as if he had just gotten off the couch, the sound of footsteps indicated he was walking, or rather, limping. "I'll be there in ten."

"No, no, hon." Robin shook her head. "It's fine. Lori should be here soon, or Shane – I'll get them to give me a ride home. I don't want you pulling out your stitches. Lay back down." Her mind clicked that not only had Isaac had gotten injured at work, so did her brother, in a three week time period. Luck was just on her side, it seemed.

Isaac gave a sigh of relief, though he attempted to cover it up with a few coughs. Robin gave a half-smile at the awkward silence echoing on the other line. "Ask Debbie to pick up Isabelle, please?"

"Yeah, of course, honey. I'll see you around. 'Love you."

"I love you, too." The line clicked on the other end.

Robin placed her phone inside the pocket of her standard black cargo pants. She glanced at Rick's motionless anemic face, tears swelling in her eyes once more. Ever since their parents had passed away when she had been twenty, Rick twenty-three, she had relied on him more and more. Those had been hard times, but she knew that with Rick in this condition, times would be challenging.

She sucked in a breath as she steadied her breathing. "Rick, I need you to wake up," Robin patted his hand twice, blandly, before she noticed the silhouette to her left, shadowing the fluorescent light spilling out from the Hospital's luminous corridor. Blue eyes snapping in that direction, Robin exhaled when she saw none other than Lori Grimes, who gazed at her husband with an expression dread that was trying to mask.

Robin jumped from her seat without a second thought, rushing to embrace the woman she had learned to love as a sister. Arms locked around Lori's neck, Robin smiled warmly as she felt the woman breakdown at her hug, sweltering tears beginning to soak into her blue button-up Paramedic shirt. "Oh, God, Robby – How – Shane came and t-told me, i-is he . . . I . . ."

"He's in a coma, Lori," Robin grasped the woman's cheeks, leaning her face away so that she could see her brother's wives terrified brown eyes rimmed red. "But he's strong. He's strong."

She nodded in agreement, but she consistently found her gaze darting to her husband's prone, fragile form. Lori broke away from Robin, rushing to the chair she had previously vacated. She pivoted on her heel to observe as Lori grabbed Rick's hand and kissed his palm, eyes closing in grievance. Robin almost gritted her teeth at the pitiful sight, but instead she stepped out into the Hospital hall, her face softening when she saw little Carl sitting down beside Shane, who was doing his best to cheer the poor boy up.

Robin strolled over and smiled when Carl spotted her, his fathers and hers blue eyes lighting up with recognition and happiness. "Aunt Robby!" He managed to grin as she crouched in front of him and Shane, placing a hand atop of his shaggy hair.

"Hey, bud," she said with fondness. "How aboutcha go see your daddy with your momma?" She regarded him with sympathy as he gradually made his way into the room, leaving Shane and she in the corridor with working and roaming nurses and doctors.

She collapsed on the disagreeable waiting chair, dragging a hand through her knotty brown hair. "What a day," she mumbled with morose.

"Man, this is my fault," Shane's jaw was clenching with self-anger, his hand closing into tight, pale fist. "My entire fault."

Robin laughed, but it was humorless. "Don't be stupid, Shane. It isn't your fault. He's a Sherriff Deputy; something like this was bound to happen sooner or later."

Shane sneered. "An' you really believe that, Robin?"

She remained silent as they continued to tensely remain in the god-forsaken chairs, listening wistfully to Lori's reticent sobs through the jarred door. That was, until the walkie talkie hooked to her waistband began buzzing with life. "Get ya ass down 'ere, Grimes," her superior spoke, voice almost annoyed.

Robin grabbed the communication device, clicking the side as she declared into the deceiver. "I'm taking the rest of the day off, Nick. Get Renee to take my place, I have a family emergency."

Static. "Alright, but it's coming out of your paycheck."

"I'm okay with that." Robin switched off the walkie talkie, rubbing her eyes before swiveling to see Shane, who still had that loathing expression implanted across his face. "Think you could give me a ride home, Officer Shane?"

He cleared his throat before standing up after her, a small smile turning up his lips. "Yeah, yeah, come on, Rob."

* * *

Robin locked the door as she entered the dimly-lit two-story house, laying her purse and cellphone and any other small objects in her pockets atop of the small glass dish beside the entry. She unclipped her radio and placed it atop of the dish as well, bringing up a hand to rub at the stiff muscles in her neck.

She slipped off her shoes, padding her way to the living room where she heard soft, faint snores. Isaac Blackwater was a man at the age of thirty-five, her age, with short dark blond hair and the purest of green eyes. She sat on the left side of his hip, reaching a hand up to place against the faint prickle of beard across his cheekbones, smiling at how warm his skin was. She rubbed her thumb across his cheek, smiling.

His right eye cracked open, and a grin made its way across his features. "Hey," he said groggily, the aftermath of sleep in his voice. "How's the Deputy doin'?"

"He'll pull through," she leaned forward, placing a light kiss on his lips. "Izzy?"

"I had her go to bed early," he said, yawning. "So you could rest when you got home."

Robin leaned back to examine his propped up leg, which was bandaged around his calf all the down to his ankle. "How's the leg? You want me to re-bandage that?"

Isaac chuckled, wrapping his arm around her back and forcing her to lie on his right side, her back pressed against the back of the couch with her head lying lounging against his chest. "Rest, Robin. My leg's jus' fine."

She laid her right arm across him, shifting to get cozy in his safe arms. "I truthfully don't think I can," she whispered against his white tee-shirt, swallowing. "He looked so . . . breakable, Isaac – lying there in the hospital –"

"You can't afford to think like that, Robin. Not when he needs your support."

"I support him, Isaac! Always!"

His chest rumbled with a diverted chuckle. "Moral support. Positive thoughts, sweetheart. Y'know what I mean." He brushed her long bangs away from her eyes, smiling crookedly down at her. "Rick's family to me too, darlin'. He'll be jus' fine. Get some sleep."

The married duo then decided that couch wasn't the best approach for two people to sleep, so with the assistance of one crutch and Robin's support, they made it up the stairs in one piece. She changed out of her work uniform, opting for a pair of shorts and one of Isaac's old tee-shirts.

She slid into their queen-sized bed, careful not to disturb his wounded left leg. "Goodnight, Isaac."

"G'night."

She didn't sleep a wink.

* * *

A week later, Robin Mae Blackwater flipped the chocolate pancake in the pan, reaching across the counter of their stove to drip more vegetable oil into the skillet. She glanced over and observed the flat screen that they had installed into the kitchen for reasons like watching the news, but she wasn't so sure she desired to watch it anymore, not when they were playing vulgar shit like this.

'Man sees neighbor eating his dog' – where in the hell were people getting these ideas? Robin placed the pancake on the red glass plate, placing it in front of the eight year-old girl dressed in bright pink and green Tinkerbell pajamas. She was a mix of Isaac and her, happily taking Robin's long brown hair and his emerald green eyes. She was a beautiful girl, and the Blackwater wife had no idea what she would do when Isabelle reached her teenage years.

"Man, what a bunch of nutjobs," Isaac took a swig of black coffee from his mug, shaking his head in disbelief. "You'd think the U.S. would stop this whole publicity stunt. Zombies, really?" he snorted, placing the cup down and dug into his breakfast, eyes staying fixated on the screen.

Robin took the job in pulling Izzy's hair into a pony tail, away from the sticky syrup that threatened to get in her eyes if the eight year-old was too messy. She made her own mug of coffee, perching herself on the other end of Isaac. "Don't think too much of it," she told him. "Just a bunch of starving journalist vultures looking for something to create panic."

"What's a zombie?" Izzy muffled out, attempting to lick syrupy off her chin.

"Nothing, honey." Robin blinked at her daughter. "Isabelle. Napkin, please?"

The little girl pouted, but complied, wiping off her face with a damp paper towel.

Robin abruptly groaned as she remembered her silver 07' Honda Civic that had remained in the hospital parking lot. "I forgot about my car," she cursed herself. She looked at Isaac, who had just finished wolfing down his two pancakes. He looked back at her. "Can I borrow your truck to take Iz' to school?"

"Do you really haft to ask me that?" Isaac smiled as he rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. Keys are in the dish."

Robin glimpsed over at their daughter, who was chugging down her orange juice. "You gonna go get ready, squirt?" She ushered the small girl up the stairs, moving to get herself ready for the day as well. She dressed into a pair of old jeans, a navy dark blue paramedic shirt with a white cross established along the back, and her old flat-heeled brown knee-high boots. Having took a shower yesterday; she just pulled it into a bun and settled that her appearance would have to do.

"Ready, Izzy?" She called out from the doorway, frowning when she heard the TV from the kitchen blaring an alarm sound. Did Direct TV mess up?

She was about to go see Izzy when the sound of glass shattering reached her ears. Robin rushed down the flight of stairs, taking two at a time, just in time to hear Isaac vent a pained cry.

She slid out in front of the doorway of the kitchen, examining the area of the front door swinging open recklessly, the tipped-over dining table chairs and glass plates tossed into the marble flooring.

And then Robin screamed at what she saw, mental pain roaring through her stomach as she threatened to puke.

Isaac was in front of the sink, on the floor, and this – this _thing_ was taking a huge bite out of his neck. Robin reacted without thinking, running forward to rip her husband out of its hungry and glazed, mindless stare. Isaac yelped and gurgled in agony, blood dribbling from his lips and down his chin. "Oh my God, oh my God –"Robin's tearful prattling as she heard the ravenous and eager moan that was directed at her. The thing was stumbling towards Isaac and her, and she studied the creature that looked human but didn't.

It was Debbie . . . Their life-long neighbor that had lived in the bright yellow house next door for as long as she could remember. The woman's once vibrant blond hair was dulled and matted with blood and other substances she couldn't describe. There was a ferocious bite on the woman's side, where you could see through her ripped floral dress. Her once tan skin was pale and clammy; blood was staining her chin and most of her face.

Robin looked around frantically, for some form of weapon that could stop Debbie from attacking them further. She saw the pen and lunged for it, holding it in front of her and pinched her mouth into a tight line when she saw her hands shaking horribly. "Debbie – Debbie, _please_ –"The changed-woman reached her, handing out in front of her as she greedily attempted to claw into Robin's flesh.

She screamed and shoved Debbie way, taking a random stab into the woman's neck, thrusting her back into the kitchen floor. Robin hastily bent down to check on Isaac, checking his faint pulse and holding pressure to the bite wound on his neck. "Isaac – y-you're going to be o-okay, okay? You're going to be fine," the last words came out in a mere whisper, her blue eyes burnished with fevered tears as her throat began to ache with the urge to sob.

Her head shot up when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Isabelle stood at the bottom of the stairs, clutching her backpack as she peered with wide-eyes at her father lying in a puddle of his own blood – and then at Debbie, who had a pen stabbed through her throat. "M-Mommy?" Her bottom lip trembled with the effort to keep from crying.

Robin paled. "I-It's alright, baby – come here to mommy, please," she gestured calmly, sending the little girl a half-smile that was forced.

Izzy nodded and rushed over into the arms of her mother, weeping into her shoulder at the gory sight that she had just innocently witnessed. Robin tried to swallow but failed horribly since her throat was so sore. She sniffed and gently placed her daughter beside Isaac, who was nearly unconscious from his amount of blood loss. "Hon, Isaac, are you awake?"

The man cracked open his half-lidded eyes, trying an attempt at a smile but it sent him into a series of hacking coughs. Robin held in her tears as she glanced over at Isabelle. "Sweetheart, I'm goin' to go get my medical bag, okay, you stay here and watch over daddy?"

The small girl was trembling, but she nodded. "'Kay."

Robin scrambled to her wobbly legs, jogging up the stairs as fast as she could go, into Isaac and her bedroom. She dropped to her knees on her side of the bed and blindly reached underneath the bed, searching for her red tactical medical supply bag. It held more than just the necessities. Sterile pads, self-adhesive compressive bandage wraps, wound cleanser, waterproof plastic tape, surgical scissors, healing ointment, etc. She had it all in this bag.

Her fingers finally grasped the black shoulder strap, dragging the red bag out from under the bed with a jerk of her wrist. She propelled herself back to her feet, slinging the strap across her chest as she went to sprint back down the stairs.

"_Momma_! AH – _MOMMY_!"

Robin, dread filling her to the core, almost went sprawling down the steps as she ran down the stairs as if her life depended on it. She snatched up Isabelle just as the supposed-to-be went to snap her jaws at the eight year-old girl. Robin sucked in a sharp inhale at the sight of Isaac, his eyes closed, his chest unmoving. She felt Izzy wrap her arms tightly around her neck, hugging her close while wailing. "D-Daddy stopped b-b-breathing, mommy!" She wept, legs wrapped around her mother's stomach as she clung to her parent.

Shakily reaching down, Robin struggled to slide his wedding ring off of his finger. She slid the jewelry into her front pocket, running a hand affectionately through his hair and placing a kiss on her fingers, positioning against his own lips. "I will never love another man like I did you, Isaac Russell Blackwater." Tears slid down her face as she rushed out of the house with Isabelle in her arms, being sure to grab her wallet and cellphone and Isaac's truck keys.

Demanding Izzy to buckle up in the passenger seat, Robin jumped into the black Silverado and jammed the keys into the ignition, slamming the truck in reverse and speeding out of the driveway. Robin glanced back in the rearview mirror as the beige-colored two-story faded in the distance. She held so many memories of that house, good and bad.

She could remember the cookouts they would host at their house, mainly because they had a back porch deck and a huge swimming pool . . .

_The red wine tasted heavenly against my tongue, something I had always missed when being pregnant with Isabelle. I looked out as Lori's older sister's children played happily in her pool, spraying each other in the face with water guns and slapping each other with the multi-colored noodles. _

_ A presence behind me made itself known and I smiled at my older brother, Rick, who held a bottle of cold beer in his hand as well. "Hey, Rob," he smiled and positioned himself opposite of me, leaning against the beam of the deck and crossing his arms, balancing the beer on the crook of his arm. "How's the fam?"_

_ "Good, I suppose." I glanced out beyond Rick's face, smiling when I saw twenty-seven year-old Isaac playing 'shark' in the swimming with the children. "Isaac's great, Rick, and Izzy's a handful, but what other newborn isn't?" _

_ He grinned, his blue eyes mirroring mine. "Well, now that Carl is two, he's getting into his talking stage – which I guess is better than the wailing one." _

_ "Yeah, I can imagine."_

_ Rick reached forward and hugged me, tucking my head underneath his chin. "You got it set good here, Robin. I'm proud." He let go and ruffled my hair, causing annoyance to immediately display on my face._

_ I pushed him away, miffed. "Don't tell me what I already know."_

_ "Ha, well did y'know that your oven is smoking?"_

_ Panic overtook my irritated, yet playful thoughts. "Oh my God, Rick!" . . ._

"Mommy, I'm scared," Isabelle huddled in the seat, tears streaming down her flushed face as her glassy eyes gazed at her mother's distressed expression.

"I know, baby." Robin glanced down to clutch her cellphone, flipping it open and jamming in a few keys. After a few rings, a female answered in a hesitant voice. "Lori! Oh God, Lori, are y'all okay?"

The woman on the other end released a sigh of relief. "Robin, oh it's good to hear your voice. Is – Is everything okay?"

"My honest answer?" Robin let out a humorless laugh. "No. No, it isn't. Look, I'm going to the hospital to get Rick out –"

"Shane's there! He told me to pack to leave quickly. H-Have you seen –"

"Yes. I have."

"Just come to the house, okay? Shane thinks it's best to get away from the city as soon as possible."

Robin made an afflicted noise as she turned down a street, pressing against the accelerator to go faster than the speed limit. "I can't, Lori. I haft to go see Shane. I need to make sure Rick gets out okay, don't worry, I'll catch up with you with Shane and Rick." Robin glanced into her rearview mirror again, trying to ignore the panic of the town around her. Chaos and mayhem.

"_Mommy, look out_!"

Robin faced the road just in time to see another one of those horrid creatures, but it did not stop her from instinctively swerving to the side and crashing nose-first into another car, a gold-colored SUV. Robin gripped the wheel as they flipped over once, frightened for her little girl's life as the top of the car scraped against the asphalt of the road.

She cried out as the momentum of the car caused her head to bang against the steering wheel harshly, the impact causing a deep pain to pulsate through her mind. When the trucks skidding finally ceased, she almost wished she had lost consciousness. "Isabelle?" She croaked, releasing the seatbelt which caused her already throbbing head to thump against the floorboards. "Baby?" She glanced over groggily, her vision blurred from something balmy and viscid dripping into her eyes.

"Mrs. Blackwater? Mrs. Blackwater, you need to get out of the truck right now!" A familiar voice flung her out of her foggy thoughts, sending her back to the present as she struggled to collect herself. She realized she must have a minor concussion, judging by the deep ringing in her ears, she took that educated guess. Her eyes gradually met dark grey from the driver's window, a young boy of seventeen, the same boy who generally volunteered at the hospital. Kyle was his name.

"Izzy," she slurred out, reaching out towards the passenger seat.

Kyle shook his head, a pained expression on his face. He looked up, as if examining around him, before resolved settled on his features. "She isn't breathing, Mrs. – Robin, I'm sorry. Look, let me help you out –"

"Izzy!" Robin groaned, her eyesight eventually adjusted and she glimpsed to her right, pitifully taking in the sight of her daughter hanging limply. "Oh, God no," she took one crawling step towards her, but nausea gripped her stomach and she felt herself heaving and throwing up all over the roof of the truck.

"Mrs. Blackwater –"

"Just go, Kyle!" She finally snapped, sorrow in her voice. "Find your little brother, get out of King County!" It was silent besides the distant moans of the changed-people, but she irrevocably heard the sounds of his fading sneakers hitting pavement.

Robin struggled to duck under the console in-between she and Izzy, and she unclicked the seatbelt buckle and allowed Isabelle's claudication form to descend into her mother's quavering arms. "Isabelle?" She whispered in a hoarse voice, cradling her daughters head. There was a large cut on the child's forehead, similar to Robin's, from it being smacked against the broken window of the Silverado's truck.

The mother's sobs were miserably as she watched her daughter's head loll around as if it was almost not attacked, and she soon realized that Izzy's neck was broken, and she felt her heart split in two. Robin wailed, not regarding the changed-people outside, lamenting for her loss of the two most precious people in her life. "Izzy, no," she moaned aloud, kissing her daughter's face. "God, please, _no_."

Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Robin kissed Isabelle once more, gripping the medical bag and dragging herself out of the wreckage. She softly hauled Izzy out as well, being careful not to jostle her head around too much. Robin pulled the girl to her chest, tucking her head to her shoulder, not having the nerve to depart from her little girl.

She began walking, calculating the hospital was just a few blocks away from her location. Robin clasped Izzy tighter with each step, heartache filling her more and more as her daughter's head bent unnaturally. She knew she had to let go, to find Rick – her last family member – to heed his safety, but something in her heart prevented her from letting go. Her baby girl . . . _My sweetheart_, Robin stopped in the middle of the street and inhaled a keen breath.

_ Lord, give me strength_; she thought dolefully, abruptly whirling around to determine a place for her daughter's horrible burial. She didn't even have the time to shovel a hole the ground – _I'm a shitty mother_, she declared mentally. Running behind Diana and Frank's old house, Robin spotted their little boy's tree house in the tree and sniffed. Of what she had observed of these things, they were slow and sluggish, she hoped dearly that they could not climb.

She hastily scaled the wooden steps of the ladder, trusting her weight would not crack the aged, virtually rotting limber. She gently placed Izzy through the gaping hole first, laying her on the small wool quilt the boy had placed in the corner of the tree house. Robin buried her face into her hands as she peered at the pallid, dead corpse that had once been her giggling and alive daughter.

"_I love you so much, sweetheart. So, so much_."

The events that took place afterwards were a blur, and Robin felt detached to reality as she arrived at the hospital, careful not to move her head too sharply. She knew how deadly concussions could be become if she was not too attentive toward the wound, she was lucky it was only a grade one concussion.

Jogging through the Hospital corridor, Robin intuitively dropped down into a crouch as gunfire was heard from somewhere in the hospital, followed by the shrill screams of nurses and doctors. She ran as fast as she could toward her brother's hospital room, her straining breaths deafening in her own ears.

But just as she swerved down the hall of her brother's room, she bumped into a tall and broad body. Shane Walsh gazed down at her with equal shock, sweat dampening his face and the chest of his police uniform. A gun was balancing in his right hand, but it unstiffened after distinguishing her familiar face. "Robby," he swallowed and squinted down at her tear-streaked face and melancholy face. "No, no – Isaac –"Rick, Isaac, and Shane had been good friends in high school, despite the three year difference.

Robin's bottom lip trembled as she contained her sobs. "And Izzy – Rick –"

Shane's face crumpled with sorrow. "I don't – I don't know, I didn't get a heartbeat. Oh, not Izzy –"He held his mouth and chin with his hand, blinking back tears as he shook his head with remorse. Shane blinked as the sound of screams and gunshots drew closer to their position. "Robin, we need to leave – now."

"I can't," Robin indicated her head as a negative. "I just – I can't. I'm staying with Rick."

"He's dead," Shane's eyes implored hers, pleading with her.

"Coma's generally slow down someone's heart rate. There's guns showering bullets around here – _Rick's alive_." Robin extended her arms and grabbed Shane by the sides of his face, leaning him to give him an affectionate peck on his forehead. "Go get Lori and Carl, get outta here. Fast."

Shane licked his lips and returned her kiss on the forehead, brushing her hair back. "You stay alive, ya hear me?" She nodded, sending him an artificial smile. Robin turned away, but his voice had her turning back. "Robby? A stab or shot to the brain kills them."

Robin frowned but nodded. So that explained why Debbie had gotten up after she had clearly severed her carotid arteries with the length of the silver pen. She promptly pushed the hospital bed enough out of the way from his door for her to slither through, pushing it back into place as she shut the door behind her.

Robin twisted around to see Rick, who was lying flat on the bed while being obliviousness to the chaotic world around him. She quickly closed the blinds and curtains in the room, shadowing the white interior into a taupe gray. She monitored Rick's pulse precisely, forcing the noises of the background away from her mind as she focused on her task.

And assuredly, _THUMP_ . . . . _Thump_ . . . .

Robin exhaled in consolations, stumbling back into she was leaning against the window behind her. She slid down until her back rested against the bleach white wall, a trembling hand shaking as she reached into her front pocket and withdrew the silver band that had belonged to Isaac Blackwater.

She smiled as she took off her own wedding ring, sliding his larger once on her left hand before placing hers back on, for assurance that his would not slip off if she was completing a task of some sorts. Robin laid her head back against the wooden wall, shutting her eyes. She felt drowsy, but she also knew sleep was not wise when having a concussion.

So she did the only thing she knew what to do, since sleep was not an option.

She cried.


End file.
